


The Seventh Month Will Die

by Arithra



Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Implied/Referenced Murder, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Prophecy, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: It was all part of destiny’s masterplan, and he had known that sooner or later the words that would doom him would be spoken.Or: A prophecy is made, and Lord Voldemort prepares to destroy the one destined to defeat him. Harold prepares for the end.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/225602
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	The Seventh Month Will Die

The official meeting had just ended, and Harold was slowly walking towards the front of the giant throne room, having observed the proceedings from behind. When Lord Voldemort had asked him why, he had justified his actions by claiming that sometimes watching the proceedings gave one a different insight.

That was not true, at least not strictly speaking.

Sometimes, Harold admitted to himself, he was a coward.

Not wanting to be close when the poor death eaters who had been in charge of guarding James Potter were being punished, most surely was one of those moments of cowardice.

Still, it had to be done, for the sake of history. It was all part of destiny’s masterplan. Had it not been supposed to happen that way, he would not have succeeded. It was something that Harold Evans had learned the hard way. Something Harry Potter would never have accepted.

But when, Harold mused had Harry and Harold become such different people?  
When had he given up in believing that there was absolutely nothing he could do? When the dark mark had been branded into his skin?

The last Death Eater left the throne room just as Harold reached the front.

It had been, he decided, the moment when the man he loved had died once and for all. When Tom had died and left Harold with the monster, the terrible creature known as Voldemort. And his acceptance of this simply fact had happened shortly afterwards as well, after all it had been him who had declared war on Albus Dumbledore.

A decision he had regretted again and again, and an outcome that left him yearning to fight for what he believed in. Fighting for ideals that directly opposed Voldemort’s.

But it was for the Greater Good, Harry had suffered for the Greater Good as well, so why should Harold not do the same?

But unlike Harry, Harold had chosen his direction, fate or not, he could have escaped. Suicide would have been an option after all, not a favored one, but an option none the less.

In the end it had been his love that had decided the outcome.

And for once he had understood why Voldemort called love a weakness.

Had Harold not loved Tom, he would never be here now, left with the monster that was Lord Voldemort. Left with what little was left of his love.

Left with being unable to stop loving him, despite what he had become.

“Did your observation bear any fruit, Harold?”

Red eyes fixed on him, and Harold gave a small shake of his head before inclining his head in submission.

“No, my Lord. Nothing but the fact that one of them was missing.”

Voldemort’s hand reached out for him and a long finger trailed along his jawline, beckoning him to look up. Once they had been lovers, to Tom he had been a confidante, to Voldemort he was one of his most treasured possessions.

“Young Severus Snape, my Lord. Even his friends were surprised by his absence.”

The long fingers were now trailing threw his hair and Harold learned slightly into the touch.

After Tom became Voldemort, Harold had once sought out another lover, not because he had any feelings for the one he had chosen, but simply because sex made it easier to deal with the loss he had felt.

The man was long dead. Lord Voldemort did not share.

No one but the two of them knew what happened to the unfortunate soul Harold had sought out, but once had been enough to Harold. Despite countless offers he had received he had refused them all.

Hardened by another war he may be.

Hardened by loss he may be, but once upon a time Harold had been Harry and harry would save any life he could. It was a trait he had never lost, not even after losing himself.

“Severus Snape. A halfblood?”

Harold nodded and the long nimble fingered continued to trail threw his hair. Petting him as if he was a favored pet. Harold supposed he was.

“Do you think he might regret joining?”

“No, my lord.”

The dark lord who had been staring into space until now turned towards him and telling him without words to continue.

They must make quite a curious picture Harold mused. The Dark Lord Voldemort with his inhuman features almost gently petting the hair of his right hand while sitting on his thrown. Truly a king and his pet.

“Severus Snape had many reasons for joining, my Lord. One of them was his hatred for muggles. He had bad experiences with them. I don’t think that that is something that would change.”

Voldemort looked at him, as if daring him to point out that so had he, for Harold might be one of the few who would still remember who he had once been.

Harold knew it was something he would never forget, but he kept silent. The petting that had stopped at his worlds continued. He had pleased him Harold thought to himself. Fighting the urge to lean into the touch once more, to give in to the illusion that Voldemort was still Tom, even though he knew better.

“Find out why he missed today’s meeting.”

The petting stopped and Harold bowed. Relief and sadness over the loss of contact battling within his mind. It had been a long time since he had truly allowed himself to enjoy the dark Lords touch, but he knew which day was today, and his time was almost over.

“I will, my Lord.”

It would be easy to find out. After all he already knew what happened, it was just a matter of seconds before it would happen and fate would once more take its course. Set events into motion that would shape the end of this war and the beginning of the next.

Just then a knock sounded at the door. Voldemort waved his wand and it opened. Harold did not turn; he already knew who it was.

“My Lord.”

Severus Snape bowed low.

“Severus.”

The dark lords voice was a sibilant hiss.

“You missed today’s meeting.”

The familiar yew wand was already positioned, ready to fire the first curse.

“I have a reason, my Lord.”

Harold almost smiled at Snape’s audacity, but instead of doing so he raised his wand. This was his job.

“Crucio.”

And the young man screamed while Harold held the curse, his face bare of all expressions.

“Enough.”

At his lords command he stopped the curse and took a step back, watching the death eater impassively, having long ago resigned himself to the fact that it was better for him to cast the curse instead of the dark Lord, since the dark Lord sometimes lost himself in the waves of dark magic, prolonging the torture longer then he had intended.

It had never happened to Harold, for while he felt the seductive call of dark magic, he hated himself too much for using it to ever allow himself to enjoy casting it.

“And what is your explanation, Severus?”

The young man shakily got to his knees and tried to steady himself. Part of Harold, the part who had not receded behind his occlumency walls, hoped that the boy would hurry, he did not particularly wish to curse him again.

“I was in the Hogshead, my lord when I saw Dumbledore. He was there for a new job interview. For the divinations position.”

Snape trailed off and looked up, clearly expecting a reaction. He did receive one, as Harold shot a stinging hex at him.

A startled yelp.

“I apologize, my Lord. I went to listen. And… She made a prophesy, my Lord.”

Now the Dark Lords interest was piqued.

“A prophesy?”

Snape nodded before he dutifully began to recite the part he had overheard, given the content of the prophesy Harold could understand his nervousness.

_“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…”_

Silence reigned and it was Harold who broke it.

“That’s it?”

His voice was cold and sharp like a knife.

Snape glanced at him for a second, before returning his gaze to the floor.

“No, but it was all I managed to overhear. The barman found me and Dumbledore silenced the room…”

He trailed off, unsure whether he would be punished or praised for being the bringer of this managed.

Voldemort laughed, a cold, high laugh. One that still occasionally hunted his right hand in his nightmares. But it was Snape who flinched not Harold, who had long gotten used to it.

The Dark Lord’s laughter trailed off.

“I am pleased that you brought me this news, Severus. You shall be rewarded.”

With those words he rose and strode out of the room. The door closed behind him with a loud thud.

Leaving Snape and Harold alone in the throne room. The letter glanced at the young man still kneeling at the ground, noting his elated look, Harold have a tired sight, which drew the attention of Severus Snape to himself.

Harold gave the other man a slight smile.

“Those are very valuable information. I am sure you will be handsomely rewarded.”

Snape returned Harold’s smile, but his eyes widened at horror at the older man’s next actions.

Harold had taken a seat on the Dark Lords thrown.

“But tell me Severus Tobias Snape did you think about the prophesy before coming here?”

The question was posed like a challenge and Snape, still torn between horror at Harold bold actions, actions for which the dark lord would kill him and curiosity as to why the Dark Lords right hand was asking him such a question, decided to sate his curiosity first.

What a selfish man, if Harold did not already know, how the man’s life would continue from here on, he would believe everyone who even tried to even elude that Severus Snape would give up everything for a boy he hated, simply due to the memory of the woman he loved, to be utterly insane.

He knew better, however.

“I did not, Lord Evans.” Harold inwardly cringed at the title he never wanted, “I thought the Dark Lord would want this information as soon as possible.”

A hum was the only answer he received.

Harold was watching the younger man with tired eyes.

“You are a fool, Severus.”

The young man’s eyes flashed with anger, but the older one continued on before he could be interrupted.

“Are you pleased at what you have done?” he did not wait for a response.

“Of course you are. I was your occlumency teacher and I can still read you, are you getting sloppy Severus Snape?”

“What do you want Evans?”

Harold laughed.

“Such audacity.”

“Coming from the man sitting on the Dark Lords throne that means nothing.”

He continued laughing, amused despite himself.

“Ah Severus, I was always skilled at riling up the dark lord, he saw me sit here once and I am still alive as you can see.”

That and he had done other things on this throne. Things that he was sure Severus Snape did not want to know.

“Maybe I should punish you… but no.”

Harold knew that his smile was cruel, he had perfected it over the years.

“I will not curse you, instead I will enlighten you.”

Snape scowled, disbelieve clearly showing on his face.

“A Severus, those who have thrice defied the Dark Lord… How many people do you think are there that managed such a feat?”

Snape did not answer.

“Not many a assure you and all those who did are members of Dumbledore’s Order.”

The young man still hadn’t understood what he was eluding to.

“And among those who did so, only two are pregnant currently.”

Harold’s smile widened, even if he felt sick on the inside.

“What were their names again... Yes, yes... Alice Longbottom and what was the others name…”

The horror on Snape’s face made it clear that he understood what Harold was aluding to.

“Ah yes. Lily Potter. You might remember her. I believe you knew her as Lily Evans.”

He chuckled to himself.

“Nice name she used to have… I am quite fond of it myself.”

“No, no, no…”

Snape’s face was deathly pale, and he stared at Harold, begging the older man to tell him, that this was all a bad dream.

“Good job, Severus.”

Harold smiled. Silence reigned between them for a moment, before Severus broke it, his voice shaking.

“Lord Evans.” The man was nearly on the edge of hysteria.

“Lily Potter is a mug… a mudblood. Surely the Dark Lord would not believe a lowly halfblood to be capable of the same feats of magic like pureblood. A mere halfblood would be of no consequence compared to a pureblood…”

Severus Snape was clingy to a thread, but Harold knew, that Snape would learn of the Dark Lords choice soon enough, so he continued to smile, while he rose from the dark Lords Throne and walked towards the door.

“Of course, Severus, do have a nice evening.”

Then he left, knowing, that he had kicked loose the first stone that would lead to Severus Snape becoming a spy for Albus Dumbledore, but not yet.

Because if there was one thing Severus was good at it was denying what was right in front of him.

His treatment of harry Potter once upon a time was prove enough.

Harold Evans disapparated with a crack knowing full well, that his time was almost over, he could already feel the pull of death. A different pull from the one that he used to raise Inferi, this time he was not the one pulling, but the one being pulled.


End file.
